


in the name of.

by amberwoods



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Post-Second War with Voldemort, all in the name of science of course, getting a little hot in here
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-08
Updated: 2017-09-08
Packaged: 2018-12-25 10:43:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12034245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amberwoods/pseuds/amberwoods
Summary: Padma Patil had a research question.She had kissed six people during her time at Hogwarts – four boys and two girls. The situations in which she had kissed them had varied and so had her feelings for them at the time.Only one of the kisses had been nice. Or – more than nice. Others had been nice.Only one kiss had been perfect.Now the question was: why?





	in the name of.

Padma Patil had a research question.

She had kissed six people during her time at Hogwarts – four boys and two girls. The situations in which she had kissed them had varied and so had her feelings for them at the time.

Only one of the kisses had been nice. Or – more than nice. Others had been _nice_.

Only _one_ kiss had been perfect.

Now the question was: _why_?

She considered the situation, of course. It was thrilling, unexpected, a little sneaky _._ That might have been the reason. But she’d tried to recreate it once or twice and it had never worked. That might be because she forced it, but she’d never really know.

Unless she tried again.

So that is how Padma found herself at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes after closing time, trying to gather her courage while George rummaged through his drawers looking for some papers.

She stared at his bright red hairline while she tried to figure out how to put her request. He’d let his hair grow out a little and, surprisingly, there’d been a bit of a curl to it when he did. It looked good on him.

Finally, George came up from the ocean of papers in his drawers with the right folder in his hands. He had a look of obvious relief on his face. It made the tiredness of his eyes stand out. He was probably looking forward to going home. It almost made her feel guilty.

But she had had this question for _years_ now.

“Sorry Padma,” he said with a grin, “What did you want to talk to me about?”

Suddenly confronted with the actual moment she had to speak, she struggled to find the words again. She fumbled for a moment, trying to be eloquent, but then decided to just give up.

Padma pursed her lips and looked at him. “I want you to kiss me.”

If the shocked look on his face was any indication, he had _not_ expected her to say that. Which was fair, probably. When a fellow shopkeeper wanted to talk to you right after work, it was often work-related. This was… not.

“Kiss,” he repeated, his face showing no clear stance on the idea.

“Yes. It would be a favour. It’s… Well, I’ve been trying to figure out what makes a good kiss, since I’ve been sort of unlucky in that department for a while, and I remembered the kiss we shared during my second year –“

She cut herself off at that and snapped her gaze back to him. “You do remember that?”

She hated how insecure her voice sounded. However, at the sound of it, a small smile appeared around George’s lips. “I do.”

“Right.” She looked away again and cleared her throat. “Well, it was one of the better ones and I was just wondering why that was. I considered the situation of course. It was quite… extraordinary. But I also wondered if you might just have some _technique_ that made it a lot more…”

She trailed off when her eyes drifted back to George and she caught sight of the look on his face. A wide grin dominated his expression and his brown eyes twinkled.

He crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair, suddenly looking a lot more relaxed than she could remember ever having seen him. “Well, Padma,” he told her, “Since it’s bothering you so much, I think something can be arranged.”

Padma felt a blush redden her cheeks and she tried her best to pretend it didn’t exist. “It hasn’t _bothered_ me, really, that’s a little _much,_ really, I was just _wondering –“_

“Of course,” George said mildly, clearly just trying to appease her.

She realised further protest would make her look more guilty (and she _was_ guilty – the question of why George Weasley was such a good kisser _had_ been bothering her for years), so she just cleared her throat again. “Alright then. Thank you.”

“So, right now, or…?” He still had that grin on his face. He was having way too much fun with this.

Then again, this was _George Weasley_. They were _inside_ Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, for God’s sake. What had she expected?

“Yes, that’s fine,” she answered, her voice clipped and professional, “Perfect.”

“Alright.” He rose from his chair with catlike grace and walked around his desk to approach her. When she was within touching distance, he lingered and looked at her.

“Are you sure?” he asked, an open honesty on his face that assured her that she could change her mind at any time. It softened her a little and the smile she gave him was very fond.

“Yes,” she said.

“Alright,” he repeated, softer this time, absent-minded as his eyes flicked down to her lips. He reached out for her, placing a hand on her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world – and that was the first thing she’d remember. That was the first trick.

Because as he did, her breath hitched just a little and she was distracted enough by the feeling of his fingers that his face was suddenly so much closer than she had expected, even if he was still a foot away.

Their eyes locked and Padma felt a little hazy. The amount of freckles on his face was making her dizzy. She had the completely irrational urge to count them – even though she knew the task would be nearly impossible.

She wondered if having freckles could count as a trick.

He smiled at her. “Hello.”

“Hi,” she answered breathlessly.

There was a little mischief in his eyes. “We’ve certainly grown up, haven’t we?”

It took a moment before Padma understood his words, but then she let out a light chuckle. “Yes, it seems like we have.”

They’d been so young when they kissed at Hogwarts. She’d been at the end of her second year – thirteen, and she’d felt so mature. He’d been… fifteen? He must have been. Hardly fifteen.

It hadn’t been romantic or anything. Not at all. It was rushed, and clumsy, and perfect. It wasn’t her first kiss either. She’d briefly dated Anthony during her second year, her first real crush, and his kiss had been her first. Kissing George had been… an accident, really. Unplanned.

Padma had never really been a sucker for rules. They often seemed unnecessary to her, or at least open to some small alterations and exceptions. Often, that exception was her.

For example, she _knew_ there was a reason you weren’t allowed to sneak into the common room of another house than your own. It would _clearly_ be really inconvenient.

But this was different. Parvati was in another house. And they were _twins_. Besides, Padma was really careful. She wouldn’t do anything strange. She just wanted to see her sister.

Right before curfew, of course. She was confused and needed advice.

She was _thirteen_ , for God’s sake. Cut her some slack.

She hadn’t realised it would be quite this hard to get through the lock, sadly, so it was past curfew when she finally made it into the Gryffindor common room. She slipped in quietly, hoping no one would notice her.

She got lucky – there were less than a handful of people around. A couple of girls whispering in a corner. Two boys lingering in front of the stairs to their rooms. And George Weasley, lounging in a chair with a book.

The girls moved up the stairs right as she entered, and the two boys quickly followed. George Weasley remained and she eyed him nervously for a moment. She didn’t like that he was watching when she approached the stairs to the girl’s dormitory. If the stairs were set to recognise people from other houses as well as other genders, she was up for a bit of a challenge.

Would he tell on her if she was? She honestly didn’t know.

She never got the chance to find out, though. When she glanced at him again, he was looking at her suspiciously, and she froze.

_Use your Parvati-voice, Padma._

“Hello,” she said, doing her best impression of her twin sister.

_Please don’t notice, please don’t notice, please don’t–_

“You’re not Patil.”

“I most _certainly_ am,” she replied, hoping her indignance seemed natural. She _was_ a Patil, after all. A proud one, too.

George got up from the chair and dropped his book on it before walking up to her. “Sorry. I mean you’re the other one.”

_The other one?_

Well, it made sense, of course. She couldn’t imagine one of the older Ravenclaws knowing her sister by name.

Except she could. Gorgeous Parvati. Bold Parvati. She drew eyes to her everywhere she went.

Padma was just as pretty, of course. But quieter. More observant. Less… present, in a way.

“Padma,” George said, and Padma startled so much she jumped.

She hadn’t realised he was still searching his mind for her name while the thoughts of Parvati had crossed her mind. However, she knew she had given herself away now.

She advanced on him quickly, clasping her hands together to plead with him. “Please don’t tell anyone,” she whispered, “I just want to see my sister. I’m not doing anything bad.”

Now that the situation had dawned on him, George looked positively scandalized. “There are _rules._ ”

Padma felt a twinge of irritation and put her hands on her hips. “Don’t be ridiculous. You’re George Weasley, you _break_ the rules.”

“Not all of them,” he said, “Just the stupid ones.”

“Like curfew.”

He nodded. “Sure, like curfew. But not like _sneaking into another house._ ”

“Well, I’m here now anyway,” she tried, “You might as well just let me see if I can get up these stairs.”

He still looked disoriented. “How did you even get _in_?”

She was about to launch into an explanation of how she had fooled the system, because she was actually really proud of it and really wanted to tell someone, when the two boys who’d been standing beneath the stairs before came walking back down again.

George cursed, and Padma remembered thinking _that’s not a word I’m supposed to know_ as he dragged her away from the stairs and into a corner. He kept his body facing hers, but looked over his shoulder at the boys as they reached the common room. They looked at George hiding the girl in a corner and then exchanged a glance.

However, before they could take a closer look, George had put a hand on Padma’s (by now _burning)_ cheek, and pressed his lips to hers.

He kissed her thoroughly, pressing himself against her gently and effectively shielding her from sight. She couldn’t help but react, opening her mouth to let out a breathless sigh at the touch and losing herself in the feeling.

George was… George was _something._ He was amazing.

He kept kissing her until they heard footsteps on the stairs again, heading up. Then he pulled away ever so slightly, his breathing a bit heavier than before, and looked at her from up close.

“Maybe tell your sister to be on the look-out for rumours,” he said.

Padma nodded, unable to speak, and George let go of her, stepping away and heading upstairs without even a glance of his shoulder.

Padma stood in the Gryffindor common room for about ten more minutes. Then, more confused than when she’d come here but really _not willing_ to talk to Parvati about it, she headed back out and rushed to her own rooms.

How different things were now. She was twenty-two now, wearing a pencil skirt and professional blouse, standing in George Weasley’s _office_ , about to be kissed for science.

_Well,_ she thought while she let her gaze drift down to his lips, _maybe not just for science._

And it certainly didn’t feel like science when George finally leaned in to press his lips to hers in a searing kiss. She didn’t notice the amount of tension in the room until it came _bursting out_ through their kiss, setting fire to her skin. She tried desperately to cling to her question and notice exactly _what_ he was doing.

He tilted his head at just the right angle. A hand went up to cradle her cheek ( _just like the first time)_ and slid further until he could wind his fingers in her hair. The hand on her waist twitched and moved down to rest on her hip and it was _so hard_ not to lose herself in it.

He used his tongue only a little, focusing on tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth a little and then soothing his tongue over it quickly before giving it a gentle suck. Something was fluttering inside of Padma and she wasn’t sure how long she could keep this up. She felt a little unsteady. And, like he knew, he turned them until she was pressed against his desk and could lean against it for support.

This angle made him feel that much taller, and he moved up his hand from her hip to put on her neck and deepen the kiss. It became slower, more sensual, and Padma heard a whimper cleave the air before she realised it was hers.

Padma thought to herself: _I could do this forever._

And then he bit down on her lip a little sharper than he had before and she thought: _I want more._

Soon afterwards, he pulled back, leaving her with a hunger in her veins and her pupils blown, looking up at him with mussed hair and well-used lips. She probably didn’t want to know how horny she looked.

He just looked down at her, his own pupils just as wide, a blush on his freckled cheeks, his thumbs moving across her skin.

“And?” he asked softly.

“I’m not sure,” Padma answered, “I can’t quite figure it out.”

“But it was nice?” he asked, and he looked so sincere that breathless laughter burst out of her.

“Yes,” she told him, “It was more than nice. Nicer.”

His shoulders relaxed and he smiled at her, a little spark of teasing back in his eyes. “I’m not sure that’s grammatically correct.”

“I don’t really care at the moment.”

“Well, I’m glad I could help.”

He didn’t know how nice it was that he wasn’t being _smug_ about it. He was just George, still, holding her gently and smiling at her like this was the most natural thing in the world. She vaguely remembered thinking something like that right before they kissed too.

_And maybe that was it. Maybe it wasn’t the kiss, per se._

_Maybe it was George._

Her expression must have changed while she had that realisation, because the blush on his cheeks deepened a little and he was the one to clear his throat this time.

“So,” he said,  “Do you think I could buy you a drink sometime?”

Padma laughed again, and the sound had never sounded quite that free before.

“Sure. I’d like that.” 

**Author's Note:**

> oh padma


End file.
